


Shadow Day

by ljs



Category: Angel: the Series, Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Crossover, F/M, Gap Filler, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 18:11:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14795441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ljs/pseuds/ljs
Summary: Set after 3.22, "All Hands on Decker."Charlotte is grappling with what Amenadiel told her, and she remembers a day long ago, when she shadowed another glossy LA lawyer -- at Wolfram and Hart.





	Shadow Day

"I was in hell."

As she does a lot these days, Charlotte says the words aloud. They sound too real. They fall like stones, a wall between herself and any kind of redemption. 

She gazes at herself in the mirror of her bathroom. She looks the same, glossy and well-kept and competent, regardless of walls and hard truths and the warm eyes of an angel telling her what on some level she already knew.

"I put myself there," she says, and then suddenly jolts into long-ago –  
………………………………….

"Can I get you anything, Ms Morgan?" young Charlotte says.

The attorney whom Charlotte is observing for her college career Shadow Day looks up. Behind her, the glass wall of this corner office displays Los Angeles below, roads and buildings and hellish haze. It's a great office, Charlotte thinks. It fits the woman she's shadowing.

Lilah Morgan picked her out of the crowd at her Beverly Hills career fair. "I choose that one," she said, pointing her finger at Charlotte, and then, "Well, come on. No time to waste."

Charlotte had followed her – they were close to the same height and wearing the same heels – and as they climbed into the waiting car, Charlotte had noted Ms Morgan's presentation of herself, glossy hair and well-kept hands and a waft of expensive perfume, opium-heavy with a hint of underlying smoke. She could do that too, she told herself. Part of the job.

Ms Morgan says now, "I'd like a glass of water, sparkling, one lemon," and bends her head down to her work again.

Charlotte walks over to the drinks cart and makes her selection. As she pours, she looks up at the corporate name on the wall. Wolfram and Hart, it says. She isn't sure why she suddenly thinks of teeth.

Ms Morgan hasn't let her look at the actual files or work-projects – it's confidential – and when she answered the phone a few moments ago, she spoke in English but using names Charlotte's never heard before. The names were jagged, demon-sharp, also kind of like teeth.

Charlotte brings the glass of water over, careful not to spill it, and places it on the coaster on Ms Morgan's desk. "Don't forget it's here," she says.

Ms Morgan looks up at that, really _looks_. It's the kind of look Charlotte thinks would be great in a court, or a boardroom, level and assessing and cold. Charlotte holds herself tall and looks back.

"I won't forget," Ms Morgan says. She hesitates, which seems weird in someone so assured. "And – your name's Charlotte, right? Charlotte, I want you to remember that you came here, too. Because it's not just the glitz, okay? There's… more underneath."

"Yes, Ms Morgan," Charlotte says. "I couldn't forget."

The air-conditioning comes on, harsh in the quiet. It sounds like…it sounds like someone is screaming far away, transferred up the vents and out into what looks like wealth and safety and what Charlotte is suddenly sure is not safety at all.

Ms Morgan's face seems to go dark. "Underneath," she says. She hears it too, Charlotte thinks, and suddenly Charlotte wants to be somewhere else, someone else, someone better –

"Don't. Forget," Ms Morgan says again, and her hand takes Charlotte's in a painful grip.

Then the phone rings, and the air-conditioning sounds normal, and Ms Morgan picks up the phone, brushing the speaker-button as she does. A cool British male voice says, "Lilah? Did you forget we had a luncheon...appointment?"

"No, Wes, sorry," Ms. Morgan says, and she looks like just another woman in love. She glances at Charlotte. "Here, take this to Files and Records, will you?" she says, and hands her a couple of manila folders.

Charlotte looks at it, and at the sprawl of files on Ms Morgan's desk. Three of those say _Angel_.

But Charlotte's not fool enough to get caught looking at what isn't hers. Discretion, she thinks. That's a good SAT word and a good habit for a lawyer to have.

As she walks out of the office, she hears that cool British male voice say, "So what evil are you perpetrating today, there in Hell's law firm?" 

"Maybe," Ms Morgan says softly – so softly that Charlotte thinks she wasn't supposed to hear – "I did something good."

Outside Ms Morgan's office the air-conditioning is loud again. The screaming sounds really close –  
………………………………

And Charlotte pulls herself out of the memory. It's funny, because she can't really remember how she got home that day, how the rest of the school year had gone. She'd never seen Ms Morgan again. Although she went to law school and went for gloss and perfection, she tried to put the screaming out of her memory, and she did a pretty stellar job of forgetting. Too stellar.

"I was in hell," she says to her reflection, bare-faced after her nightly shower. "Underneath." 

When she leaves the bathroom, Dan's waiting in bed. He's reading a magazine about surfing, his gaze focused on the pages, his shoulders taking up more than his share of space. He's so… goofy, she thinks lovingly.

But she also knows that he has pulled himself out of a damn big hole, has worked on himself to be better. She wants to be here with him, she wants to be better too.

Remember, she tells herself, and clasps her hands and grips hard, like that day long ago. The screaming's still there, but so is goodness.

"Move over, honey," she says to Dan, and finds her place beside him.

This is right, she thinks as he leans down to kiss her. One better choice, one less stone in the wall. Maybe she can get herself out, too.

She won't forget again.


End file.
